


sing

by spoke



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:53:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12113082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoke/pseuds/spoke





	sing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShamanicShaymin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShamanicShaymin/gifts).



Following the whispers was a bad idea, but knowing an idea was bad had never stopped her before. She had to get out of the house, no matter what anyone thought. She couldn’t stand the thought of how sick Granpa was, and she couldn’t help anyone. 

Besides, the whispers didn’t seem hateful or anything, just a little... creepy. And not quite human.

And did seem to be coming out of the trees, which anyone who knew their pokemon knew weren’t always friendly. But she didn’t mean any harm to the forest, and surely they knew that. Still, she felt as if she should offer something by way of an indication of her intentions. So she sang.

And slowly, as she made her way deeper into the thickening shadows of the forest, the whispers began to sing along. She hadn’t realized until she heard it how young the voices were, how childlike. Which was the thought that told her what she was following.

Well, they hadn’t hurt her yet. And she wasn’t going to hurt them by turning back. So she sang to them, and they sang to her, until she noticed an especially tiny Phantump floating up to her and holding out a leaf.

One exactly like the leaves on its head. 

It pushed the leaf toward her, making its creaking little cry, and she hesitantly reached out and took it, and laughed a little through her tears when it smiled. And then she turned around, knowing somehow that she had to go home, and saw Trevenant out of the corners of her eyes watching her go.

She knew, somehow, they were watching over her, and wasn’t afraid at all anymore. And when she got home, she went straight to the kitchen to boil her leaf, and didn’t tell anyone why she was making Granpa tea. At least, not until he drank it and got better. She knew, when she told him, that he’d see the Phantump were treated respectfully.

Always sing to the Phantump, she told her own children and grandchildren when they came. This is a gift they give to us, and you must give them something in return.


End file.
